


The Monster Among Us

by charlestherobot



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Multi, Some Violence in later chapters, Vampire!Matt, also no pairing but i plan on to add some light romance, and innuendos, angel!Morgan, bad jokes trust me, death!Dom, shapeshifter!Tom, werewolf!Chris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlestherobot/pseuds/charlestherobot
Summary: It's normal for monsters to walk among humans. It's just that humans don't know it.Five creatures were sent to Earth to complete their missions. The problem? They will need to deal with missionsandthe other four idiots.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to another story of mine! This time, it's a clear AU story which I had in mind for some time now. Even though it was meant to be just art, I decided it would be better if I started writing. 
> 
> The first thought was an art blog - you can find it here if you were interested (excuse my so-so art; I'm really trying!): https://the-amazing-life-of-fantasy-muse.tumblr.com
> 
> Bonus points to those who get the reference from the name of the story... :D
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. I'm up to all ideas improving this story. Stay tuned; more chapters are yet to come!

Matt looks up. His blue eye is focused on the wine he has in front of him, while his red eye is still closed due to the punch he received from Chris.

Morgan speaks, his halo shining lightly in his hair. He knows very well to hide the golden ring, but it isn't easy. "If we're gonna spend the next six months together, we can't have stunts like this." All four heads turn to him. 

"How do you plan to do that, Godsent?" Tom's raspy voice reacts. It is a deep laugh which could make anyone shudder.

Morgan's eyebrows lower, but he isn't going to let Tom win this. "See, we have three rooms for ourselves. There is a guest room in the attic. And one will sleep on the sofa in the living room. We have to be separated for our sake, or we're going to kill each other!" Morgan cries out.

For the first time that evening Dom's black eyes avert from his whisky, head turning to Morgan. "I'm not going to be at home during nights. You can't have me sleeping on the couch after a long shift of serving to the underworld."

As Dom starts this round of excuses, Tom is quick to catch up. "And I'm working at night only. It would be a crime not to let me sleep properly!"

Morgan looks at Matt. "Our wings would cause us even more pain than they do now. Can't do much there, friend."

"So, that leaves us with-" Tom grins and points at the bearded man next to him him. "Chris _Wolf_ stenholme."

Chris just now realises what is happening and frantically searches for a drop of sympathy in Morgan's eyes. "Come on, you can't leave me to the sofa. I'm a big man and need a proper bed."

The angel wants to help him somehow, and he is already opening his mouth to offer Chris his place, but the cheeky vampire is faster. "You're not allowed on the bed anyway."

If it wasn't for Dom, Matthew would've probably been forced to use his fangs and nails against Chris' claws and vicious teeth. When Chris lashes out, Dom catches his hand, twisting it a tad. He shows no effort and yet Chris' face twists in pain. "You two won't be seen together at all. Alright?" 

Chris doesn't want to show his weaknesses to the other creatures, but it's difficult with Dom's grip on his wrist. He feels stunned, as if someone shot him. It stops when Dom releases him. 

"I'm sorry, but he didn't give me much of a choice," sounds Chris' apology.

All eyes are on Matt who is shrugging his shoulders now. Who knew he was he such an iniquitous creature? 

"Calling someone a _bitch_? Yeah, sure, I swear at others in bitches only. But hey, he's not a dog," Tom says. 

"Not y-" Matt starts with a smile, but a hand lands on his mouth, preventing him from continuing. The vampire backs against the seat, knocking himself in the head.

"I don't think it's safe to finish that sentence." It's Dom. The blond doesn't look like a strong fella, but somehow he managed to hurt both Matt and _Chris_ who is almost _twice_ his size.

After Matt shakes off the confusion from the hit, his face shows irritation. "And what exactly are _ya_ supposed to be? You're playing on the image of a reserved, deep kind of guy, but you know what? You don't scare me!"

"That's good. I'm not supposed to be scary. You have to accept me." 

" _Accept you_? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Optimists fear me, pessimists accept me and nihilists welcome me." The look on Matt's face gives away his lack of understanding. 

Dom sighs heavily, accepting the fact that he's stuck with this imp for more than six months from now on. "I'm Death, Fangs. I... sort of help people when their time comes."  

The three other occupants of the table place their palms against their faces, already tired of Matt's behaviour. Everyone thinks that the vampire is going to give some sarcastic answer, but his eyes actually sparkle and his whole face brightens. "That's dark, mate. We've got a lot in common, then!" And places an arm around Dom's shoulders, whose eyebrows shoot up in confusion. "I feel like we're gonna be good friends."

Shock replaces annoyance around the table and eyes search left and right for a hint of solution to this awkward moment. Fortunately, a waitress approaches the creatures with a smile, all of them silently thanking her for the intervention. "Can I bring ye 'nother round, fellas?"

The residents of the table are also thankful for Tom being able to understand through the girl's thick Yorkshire accent and answer. "Nah, ta, we'd rather pay, deary. Bring us the bill, will ya?" And gives her a wink which she accepts with redness in her cheeks, nods and bolts away. 

"Were you always a charmer like that?" Dom teases. 

Tom places his elbow on the table and smirks. "Unlike you, my chap, girls love my eyes."

"But they're purple," says Matt in disgust.

With a snap of his fingers, Tom's eyes change to bright blue. "See? Even you lot like it!" Tom laughs heartily. Chris watches the colour flow in circles, similar to a hurricane. There's still a hint of purple which must be Tom's original colour then. It's quite scary. 

Matt, Morgan and Chris stare at the now blue-eyed man in disbelief and it all seems ridiculous to Tom that these _magical_ creatures haven't seen a change like that. "How-" stutters Chris, but Tom jumps in.

"It's how I operate. Well, not exactly like this, since this is a minor change, but that's my job." Tom coughs as to start his speech. "It's so obvious who _you_ represent, chaps. Emo Death, failed vampire, short-tempered werewolf and God's receptionist. I'm different. I lure in dreams, making you obey for the highest of prices. Only a small detail and I have your fate in my hands. I'm the lord of-" 

"Here's the bill. Separate, right?" the waitress cuts Tom off mid-sentence and hands them the paper. All of them pay her and add a generous tip and a smile as a bonus, but she is all eyes for Tom. When she leaves, turning her head at the black-haired man for the last time, Tom huffs, annoyed. "I'm a shapeshifter, okay. That bird bloody ruined it." 

"Well, if it weren't for your eyes..." Matt mocks, but a foot appears on his shin from the opposite direction. Chris tries to look unsuspicious, but fails miserably, since he can't contain his revengeful smile. 

Dom notices the foul energy and decides to speak up. "You two just can't can it, right?

"Hey, he started it!" claims Chris and Matt crosses his arms on his chest. His wings are starting to hurt under his coat and he would love to just leg it to their house and forget this evening.

"You're proving that you're younger than us, acting like right children," Morgan sighs and stands up. "

"I thought angels were supposed to be calm in every situation..." Tom whispers Morgan's direction.

"I _am_ calm, but you can't be reasonable with those who don't appreciate it anyway," says Morgan and moves out of the establishment, followed by Tom and Dom right behind him. The latter's black cape flaps against the tiles and his black hat is being almost knocked down when he's coming through the doorframe. 

That leaves Matt and Chris in the box alone. They're looking down to their empty glasses, Chris' finger grazing its rim. There's strange atmosphere between them, but neither wants to adress it. 

"Hey, uh... sorry. For this evening, I mean," apologises Matt and looks directly in Chris' eyes. They're brown with a hint of green rimming the outside of the pupils. They're quite charming, much more than Tom's changeable ones.

"It's... no problem, I think I can get used to this, little vampire." And then the werewolf flashes _the smile_. It's not an ordinary smile - Matt noticed that there is _nothing_ ordinary about the man sitting opposite of him - and it's the sweetest thing he's ever seen. Chris doesn't even try to hide his pointy teeth. It's actually horrifying when the vampire thinks about all the stuff Chris must've used the teeth for, but he finds himself stunned by the sincerity of the smile. It is the first time Chris smiles during that evening and Matt wonders what could he do to make Chris show it more.

"Hey, wolfman, would you fancy a cuppa at home?" Chris looks pensive for a second, then nods and smiles again, this time it's only a thin line curved at ends.

"Why not? It's at your expenses, not mine," he reacts and stands up. "We should go an catch up with the others. They must think we're either biting each other's skin off or going at it." Chris makes a beeline for the exit without making too much hassle about his height. Matt decides that he's too tall for his liking, but that Chris' last thought doesn't sound so bad. He'll have to ponder about it.

When Matt gets out of the pub, he sees the tall man waiting for him and a few steps further are their other friends. Matt can finally free his wings after the whole evening of suffering. But hey, he will need to get used to it if he wants to appear normal. 

"Does it hurt?" Chris asks, extending his arm to touch the bone on the wing's end. 

Matt doesn't really like when people don't ask before observing his wings, but he decides to make an exception. "Nah, it's just really annoying," he says, trying to sound butch. It's really difficult when his hands are almost as thin as tree twigs. "Hey, don't you have a tail?"

Chris frowns. "Only when I morph."

"So you must know how it is, even only once per month," tries Matt, but he senses that Chris is not in the mood to talk about it.

"The fabric rips faster than I register the pain," he says, visibly irritated, and jogs to the others. Matt feels like this topic will need a closer look at, grins and uses his demon wings to take a place next to Dom who looks deadly exhausted. Not even the ever-energic Tom talks much. It's just Morgan who rambles about his excitement from this mission. _Long six months indeed,_ thinks Matt, but he's quite happy he got sent here with these idiots. 

_Let the adventures begin._


	2. Chapter 2

The journey takes about twenty minutes and is filled with Morgan's exaggerated optimism and Dom's occasional chuckle. He likes the angel's outlook at the world of humans and is happy about his mission, even though he hasn't exactly said what it was yet. Dom is curious.

"And Morgan, excuse me for interrupting, what's it that you have to accomplish?" the blonde asks. 

Morgan graces him with a smile and nods. "Dear, I have ten people to change." It's enough for Dom to pick up that Morgan's here to simply help people to be better, but Matt isn't going to give up his curiosity.

"Sorry, Morgan, but what does that exactly mean?" Matt can afford to fly around, since there's nobody around except for them, so he flies in front of Morgan. 

"Now, child," Morgan starts, finally freeing his halo from under his hair. It's shiny enough to provide light for the rest of the journey. "I have a list of ten people who aren't a material for heaven nor hell. I was, therefore, sent here to help them towards the journey to heaven. It takes approximately about five deeds to complete the task, depends on age. It's three with children, four or five with teenagers and adults and usually five or six when they're old."

"Why would anyone want to go to heaven? Must be boring as... something really boring," reacts Tom. 

"It's not. You can have all you want there; your favourite drink, you can wear your favourite clothes, most of the time you'll find there your childhood pet... you can even divert towards the road to become a helping angel like me!" Morgan doesn't take pride in what he does, but this is his first mission and he wants to show that he can be sent for another.

"Of course. Because who wouldn't want to sing happy tunes and be positive all the fucking time," Tom grumbles and continues to look around them. The nights in this city are pretty dark, he thinks.

"We can't be happy all the time, but we can think of good things at least," Morgan smirks and continues looking around.

Tom rolls his eyes back, not enchanted by the idealistic picture Morgan drew. The blond angel sees it, smirks and crosses his arms. "And Tom, pray tell, what are you doing here?" Morgan flaps his fings out of a habit, messing up Tom's hair. The shapeshifter doesn't look phased, but it's boiling inside him. He can't stand holy, noble creatures like Morgan. 

He's met only one angel in his life, besides Morgan, but he knew he hated these people. Tom's resided the neutral realm, so his life has been pretty much the same as the life of humans. There he's met many other hybrids, like sirens and dragons, but the worst were "the higher ground". Those who liked to think they were more just because they had greater history, like perytons. Ugh, Tom hated those majestic deer horns perytons possess. Unlike Tom with his purple, pointy ones, those creatures are proud of their golden antlers.

And even though Morgan is an angel who shouldn't cross the line of sinning, Tom believes that the angel has a darker side, the proud one as well.

Before Tom can have an acidic answer, Dom reacts. "Hey, I think we're here already." The blond points at a decent, green painted older house in what looks like a quiet neighbourhood. There are no lights illuminating the street. At least there's a fence around the house, the typical white picket fence you would see down in Devon. 

Morgan's eyes light up immediately. "Well, this is wonderful!" The others don't share the angel's excitement. They're tired and would welcome a bed. 

What's there to say that Chris is not happy about two things. 

Morgan gently pushes the gate and all of them step to a thin aisle flanked with flowers, leaves and such. It's quite cute that their bosses were thoughtful enough to prepare a nice welcoming.

The house itself looks a tad chapped from the outside, but when all five of them step beyond the porch, they're stunned at how modern everything is. Right at the entrance is a small corridor with pegs where they can hamg their clothes, though nobody does so.

Through a glass door they get to a spacious kitchen. When Dom pushes the switch, a minimalistic chandelier lightens the room. The kitchen unit takes up the majority of the place, forming an incomplete square from a corner of the room to the middle of the kitchen where it serves as a sort of counter with tall stools behind it. There's a cooking island inside the square. 

Tom and Chris are left to stand and wonder how much fun they're going to have with cooking there, while the others look at the rest of the house. 

The living room isn't so interesting. There are just enough armchairs for the five of them and a comfy looking sofa, all turned to a wide telly mounted to the wall. A personal library takes up on of the walls and is full of history and philosophy books. Morgan notices a pianino near the entrance to the room and silently thanks to the higher grounds.

The three reamining decide to discover the rest of the house later and that now it's time to rest their heads. They find the stairs to the first floor and finish their journey for the night. 

There are three doors leading to the their bedrooms and they all choose one as it really doesn't matter now. Morgan goes to find the guestroom as he promised.

Tom starts to creep after the three creatures, while Chris observes the gadgets and cupboards.

The werewolf is suddenly left downstairs.

•~

Chris is laying down on the sofa and tosses and turns, until he can't take it anymore and stands up. He grabs his jacket, fishes out a packet of ciggys and makes for the balcony.

The night is dreary. Neither stars or the moon is visible in the sky and Chris wonders why the hell he had to take up the mission. The cigarette casts an eerie gloom over his bearded face. He looks over the railing and just watches. His vision is perfected thanks to his sensitive eyes, so he can observe every motion.

Still, Chris doesn't register a certain vampire creeping up behind him. He only jumps, when he feels Matt's long claws on his bare back, almost dropping the cigarette. 

"Fucking _fuck_ , I'll fucking kill you!" yelps Chris, but is silenced by Matt's hand over his lips. 

"Sorta jumpy, are we?" The vampire is holding in his laughter so hard that the corners of his mouth hurt, and he has to bite his lower lip to keep the sound in his throat. "Also, shout one more time and Tom's gonna send yer arse to hell." 

Chris throws Matt's hand away, but still is careful as not to burn the creature with his cigarette. "That's if I'm not gonna throw _your_ arse over this railing sooner." Chris breathes out a sigh of relief and leans over the balcony with his back, his elbows over the railing.

"I didn't know your species was this afraid," Matt mocks, but when he sees Chris' thoughtful face, he softens in his actions and uses his wings to take off a tad and sit on the edge of the balcony next to Chris' arms. 

He gestures ambivalently at the cancer stick. "What's up with that?"

"Oh, this?" Chris holds the cigarette up, moving it to his mouth. Then he takes another long drag, the end of the ciggy lightning up, and sweeps his head back to blow out the white smoke. "Should be calming your nerves, but I just like the feeling of taking it in."

Matt nods and continues looking at Chris smoking the cigarette, wondering about trying it later after all this time. "So, what do you have to do here, Wolfstenholme?" 

Chris winces at the name, but decides to ignore it for the best. "Our clan's dying off. I was sent to deliver six new members." 

"And how does it work? I mean, do you like mate or sowt?" 

Chris lets out a laugh and turns his head to the vampire. "How old are you, bloodsucker?" He flicks the ciggy at the vampire.

"And why's that a topic of conversation and not what I asked?" Matt grins, crossing his arms. "Hundred and some." Then he looks up to the sky and sighs. "I'm celebrating today actually."

"Should I sing ye sowt?" Chris chuckles and softly puts a hand over Matt's shoulder. "Happy birthday, fella." He sees something in Matt's eyes, looks like sadness, but he isn't one to pry. With Matt's talkative personality he's sure that he'll get to know the source of it.

Matt gets off the railing and flies in front of Chris. "So?"

Chris straightens up. "So what?" 

"How are you going to do your mission?" Matt says as he steps closer. 

Chris senses danger and wants to back away, but can't. He swallows loudly. "Well, a bite or a deep enough cut."

"Seems painful," Matt inquires, the distance between him and Chris now barely exists. He lifts his hand and thrusts a finger into Chris' chest. He's careful with his claw as not to break the werewolf's skin. "But if I weren't a vampire, I would welcome it from a creature like you." 

Chris wouldn't admit it, but he kind of likes the way Matt's claw feels on his naked chest. "Hey now, why don't you tell me what you're doing here?"

"Right now? Well, if you must know..." He leans close to Chris' ear and whispers. "Practising." Matt feels Chris shudder and he laughs hard, taking a step back. 

Chris smiles at the vampire's incapability of saying 'r', but is quickly angered by his arrogance. 

"You're so easy you wouldn't believe!" tries Matt in between laughs and slaps his knee. "Jeez, and I thought we were going to kiss for a second." 

At this the werewolf feels a pang of sorrow, but wipes it away quickly. 

Matt's still grinning and answers Chris' question. "Okay, so like yourself, vampires need new recruits and I was ordered to make vampires out of ten people."

They're both leaning over the railings, watching the nature. "What do you think that Dom's here for?" Chris asks.

"He's Death. I don't think he's here to sell biscuits," Matt jokes and starts walking back to the house. "And be careful. You never know which _human_ twat would want to have that arse of yours just for themselves..." 

This leaves Chris speechless, more tired and slightly excited to spend time with this teasing creature. 

He goes back to the living room, lays down and thinks. _Tomorrow it all sets off,_ he says to himself and tries to fall asleep, which eventually works.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _so so so so_ sorry for leaving this story on hold for so long; I really had no inspiration for writing another chapter, but since my muse caught up, I hope your anger with me can disappear with this quite long chapter where it finally takes off a bit. I'll make sure to work on it more often because I just got new ideas and I don't want to keep everyone waiting (despite that about two people have read this and still remember that it's not a one-shot?).
> 
> Also forgive me for all the innuendos and bad jokes; it's just how I imagine their individual characters :D 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading; you're the best! ^^

The sun is already long up, when Tom opens his eyes after just a few hours of sleep - being used to pulling all-nighters took up a toll on his sleeping schedule - and tries to get up. The window above him makes it a tad more difficult, for it is a straight source of the annoying sunlight for his face.  
  
"Can't even get a proper feel of home," Tom says out loud and with a click of his fingers the window is covered with a black piece of leather. _Much comfier_ , he thinks this time. Though, the shapeshifter still has to wander around just in his T-shirt and boxers. The sun made the attic horrible to reside in for its humidity.  
  
But to hell with shame; Tom feels _none_  of it.  
  
He finds his way through corridors, until he reaches the stairs, careful for once so he doesn't wake up the others. Even though a certain vampire and a werewolf thought the exact opposite during the night.  
  
_What are those two up to...?_   Tom wonders.  
  
A bright smile extricates at a thought of the kitchen he saw yesterday and how he is now finally able to show off his skills.  
  
He hasn't had the chance yet, since magical creatures don't really feel the need to eat, but Tom always knew he was good at cooking and each prepared meal made his guests full to the very least.  
  
Good is a weak word. He is fucking excellent at cooking.  
  
Those ideas are quickly dispersed when he hears light humming and movement in the kitchen.  
  
A look behind the corner tells him it's the oh so innocent angel. Tom giggles to himself and prepares his words.  
  
The shapeshifter jumps from the corner and shouts. "Good morning, Morgan!" A smirk is plastered on Tom's face as he watches Morgan yelp and fall down.  
  
Tom makes a few steps towards the laying angel and extends his hand. Finally, Morgan looks up and for a split-second Tom sees the angel's grateful look. Then it becomes a glance of horror when he realises that Tom's in his underwear and closes his eyes as he accepts the shapeshifter's hand.  
  
It makes Tom laugh so much, the naive innocence Morgan possesses, but he contains his laughter and helps the angel stand up.  
  
"Am I that ugly?" the shapeshifter asks mockingly.  
  
Morgan reacts immediately, but keeps his gaze averted. "No, no, no, it's not that! It's just... I feel like I'm invading your privacy."  
  
"You don't even see my crotch beneath the T-shirt," Tom says, amused. "Besides, have you _not_ seen anyone naked before? Pretty sure you angels are good observers."  
  
"Slow there, Tom, we're angels. Not creeps. We keep in touch with our precious souls only when it's necessary," explains the blond. He shifts uncomfortably, thinking of a way out of this conversation. Then he chuckles at his thought-out response. "I'm not a peeping Tom after all."  
  
The shapeshifter rolls his eyes. "If it bothers you so much, I'm going to go and find some trousers, so I can keep talking to your pretty mug." As he says it, he's slowly backing away towards the stairs.  
  
Morgan finally opens his eyes and exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. _What was I doing..._ he thinks and then he sees the bowl he was searching for.  
  
He takes it, sets it on the dining table and looks up. "Only once," he whispers and clicks his fingers.  
  
The bowl starts to fill with cornflakes.  
  
Morgan smiles, when the process is done. He knows he doesn't have to eat or drink, but he likes the feeling of human cosiness: a calm breakfast in the morning, a nice lunch out and a carefully chosen dinner in a poncey restaurant. When he's on a mission amongst humans, then he should as well learn their habits, shouldn't he?  
  
He walks up to one of the cupboards to search for a spoon, but when he turns back, a scrawny vampire is holding the bowl, eating one cornflake after another.  
  
"Oh, morning, Morgan. Did you go out shopping?" Matt smiles innocently.  
  
The blond knows Matt doesn't mean ill, but he could at least ask. "Actually, a small miracle of mine, since we all were tired to go anywhere yesterday. I'll tell Tom after he's done with changing."  
  
Morgan throws Matt an expectant look, but is given only sounds of crunching and a contented smile.  
  
"Well, do vampires have to eat?" Morgan asks, subtly giving hints for Matt to return him the bloody bowl. He was so excited for eating for the first time since on Earth.  
  
"We have to. In history I was used to eating some wild prey." Morgan is shocked at how relaxed Matt is while talking about hunting. "But as time went by, even our species changed and we're free to eat whatever we want. Though we always get more energy from meat."  
  
"Lord, how can you talk like that," says Morgan, distaste forming on his face.  
  
Matt puts down the bowl and leans over the table, but before he can say a few nasty words right into Morgan's pure face, Tom enters the room, all dressed up in a long black coat with stylish jeans of the same colour and a dark blue scarf as an accessory around his neck. He earns a seldom admiring look from the angel, while the vampire just stares as if he were the fierce Cthulhu.  
  
"Better, Morgan?" the shapeshifter smirks and makes his way towards the door. He's gone sooner than Matt and Morgan can realise that he was in the room with them a few seconds ago.  
  
Matt and Morgan share a look. "We're not talking about it."  
  
"Right. Nothing, absolutely nothing," stumbles the blond and makes a beeline for the door to follow the unexpected intruder for his adventures.  
  
Matt can't stop thinking about the fluffiness of Tom's hair and how he almost didn't notice the purple horns, how they so flawlessly decorate the demon's head. He makes a mental note to catch up with him later.  
  
A chat with someone who can change their appearance can make for an interesting evening.  
  
He keeps munching on the cornflakes, so he has an activity to keep his fingers occupied.  
  
•~  
  
"It's a pity you have to hide your wings," Tom says as he and Morgan walk down a busy street. "They look all puffed and comfortable."  
  
Morgan sighs and rubs at his shoulder blade, feeling sorry for the angelic omens. "The humanity isn't prepared for the revelation yet. It sorts of brothers me that I can't be honest to those who will get my help."  
  
A few curious people turn their heads at the sight of the two individuals; one in dark clothes, the other all white and both adorned with quite untraditionally old, almost snobby wardrobe.  
  
On a second thought, it's not appropriate to stare, and they're back on their business again. As if some magic trick told them to avert their gazes.  
  
Morgan frowns. "They are comfortable, yes. And I don't appreciate when you use your tricks and miracles for absurdities."  
  
"Those observers had nothing better to do. It was making me uncomfortable!" Tom tries to hold in his laughter. The angel just can't look strict even if he tries.  
  
"They don't deserve to be treated like that! Besides, if you're going to reside this realm for six months, you will have to deal with this like a normal human being," Morgan points out. A sudden smell of freshly brewed coffee catches his senses and he makes for a coffee shop, not regarding Tom.  
  
With a click of his fingers Tom fixes the enchanted minds he was the cause of and rushes after Morgan. "The problem is that I'm not a normal human being, remember? All that shapeshifting and shit?" To emphasise his words Tom lets his eyes change their colour once again, this time his left eye is blue and the other is brown.  
  
It's mesmerising enough that Morgan can't keep his sigh of awe to himself. "Okay, point taken. However, why have eyes like this?"  
  
"Watch me." Tom throws Morgan a smirk before turning to the counter and pretending to choose from the variety of drinks.  
  
A young girl turns to the shapeshifter, puts on a smile and greets him. "Hi, you alright?"  
  
"Course, dear. I'll have an espresso and the pumpkin spiced latte you have there."  
  
"You want two coffees? That's not very healthy, is it?" Morgan quips in.  
  
"Who are you to say what I should and shouldn't do?" Tom reacts, then grins. "Besides, it's for you, sweet angel."  
  
"Great choice! I always have it when I go to class," the girl says and starts preparing Tom's order. "Who for?"  
  
"Tom and the posher for Morgan." Tom is satisfied when he hears Morgan grunt some response.  
  
"Excuse me, sir, I really like your eyes," the shapeshifter hears. His plan is going smooth.  
  
"Really? People usually stare at me like I'm some kind of a monster."  
  
"No, you're more interesting, than a monster. I actually love blue eyes more, but you're one of a kind, mister."  
  
Tom and the barista – he reads the nametag and learns that her name is Elle - chat for a tad and then they receive their coffees, searching for a nice place. They sit down at a particular spot at a window display, Tom occasionally taking advantage of it and observing the outer world. It has a different feel to it, yet he wonders why he gets this warm home-y sense. He's so deep in thoughts he doesn't notice Morgan waving in front of his face.  
  
"Earth to Tom, your presence is needed here."  
  
Tom jerks his head to the side and throws the angel a long look. _His eyes are back to purple_ , Morgan thinks and can't help but to keep staring. It's something he's never seen before, only in the latest films and his own dreams.  
  
"Sorry, the question?"  
  
Morgan sighs. "What was that all about?" he asks and gestures at the counter and then back at Tom.  
  
Tom smirks. Now he has finally time to explain his goal. "Do you remember how she complimented my eyes and then said she fancies blue eyes the most? That's one information. She then said she doesn't like the job, but has it because of her studies. That's other. And to finish it off, she said her studies were in the medicine field. Piece it all together and you have a soul claimed."  
  
The angel doesn't look phased at first, but then jerks his head towards the shapeshifter with wide eyes, his mouth gaping. "Your mission is to... to claim souls? As in for the Hell itself?" He feels fire on his tongue only saying _that_ word.  
  
As if Tom was talking about the weather today, he shrugs and takes a sip from his coffee. "Not exactly for Hell, it's more for me and my post, but technically yeah."  
  
When he sees the horrified look on Morgan's face, he knows to explain.  
  
"So, what I have to do is to get seven people to give me their souls. Yeah, it is to send them to Hell after they die, but since I'm a shapeshifter - a creature not exactly from Hell, only linked to it - I'm from a different realm." Tom is excited that he can finally tell someone about his whole ordeal. He doesn't get to explain things that often for his jester-like character. _It's a nice change_ , he thinks.  
  
"And, pardon my curiosity, how does the information that the poor girl likes blue eyes help you?" asks Morgan and drinks from his coffee. Suddenly his expression changes and he's happy he can taste the wondrous drink the other angels talked about in Heaven.  
  
"If I know somebody’s name, which that girl’s name’s Elle, and a few information about them, I can invade their dreams and persuade them into selling me their soul." Tom thinks for a second. „Hey, do you think changing into Matt would help me in getting Elle’s soul?"  
  
Morgan slams his palm to the table right in front of Tom. „Don’t even think about it!"  
  
"Sorry, did you expect me to say you? I wouldn’t be able to resist my own form in the dream," Tom smirks and slowly snakes his hand towards Morgan’s.  
  
„I didn’t- you stop it or I’ll stop talking to you!" Morgan huffs and stands up. He leaves in a hurry, but not before he receives a booming laugh from Tom. _So easy_ , floats around Tom’s mind and he follows the angelic creature on his hunt for souls.  
  
•~  
  
Dom wakes up when he hears a soft piano melody. He would never say it out loud, but when he was still human, he loved to play an instrument himself.  
  
The blonde listens a little longer to the tune of someone’s playing, then he decides to actually start being productive and gets up from the bed. _I could get used to this,_ Dom admits. His sleep was quite comfortable.  
  
As he opens the door and nears the stairs, the playing suddenly stops and a loud dissonant sound rings through the house.  
  
“Hey now, was that necessary? I was almost sleeping,” Dom hears a low voice. He recognizes Chris.  
  
“A mistake was made. My skills are quite rusty, because Liszt hasn’t had the chance to give me a second piano lesson yet.” That was Matt.  
  
“Liszt who?”  
  
“Oh, come on! Franz Lizst! Rings a bell?” Dom can only assume that Chris was at the end of his knowledge, as Matt starts explaining the long and - quite frankly – boring life of the composer. He decides to put Chris out of his misery and takes the stairs to see Matt floating above Chris who’s laying on the small sofa.  
  
“Woah, that’s summat I didn’t think I’d see,” he calls after Matt.  
  
He can see Matt’s eyes beginning to shine. “Oh, you know what I’m talking about?”  
  
“Nah, only briefly. I mean a twink towering over a big fella like Chris is.” The comment seems to work as Matt suddenly stops flying and falls to the ground with a thud. Chris can only laugh, but Dom sees embarrassment written in his face.  
  
“So, when are you starting your shift?” Matt asks after he gets up from the floor. “That is, if you’re getting your lazy arse out there today.”  
  
“Unfortunately, yes. But someone has to do it, right?” Dom answers.  
  
“Aren’t you hot in the cloak?” the blond hears Chris ask.  
  
“I don’t really feel hot nor cold. My body temperature remains on one level which I can’t tell you what it is because I can’t identify it myself.”  
  
“Well, can’t you just take it off when you’re not on your duty?” Matt quips in.  
  
Dom suddenly feels hot under the gazes of his two mates and he tries to find a way out of this conversation. They’re not prepared to see how he looks like under the clothes. Hell, not even _he_ is prepared to see himself again.  
  
“I don’t think so, it’s comfy. And I feel superior over you two casuals.”  
  
Matt laughs. “I’ll rip that off you. One way or another.”

Chris stands up and Dom sees he’s red in the face, even though his beard hides the majority of his cheeks and chin. “I’ll go and do something actually interesting than to listen to you two talking.” He goes straight for the door and the other two creatures are taken aback that he can go out just in the short-sleeved shirt in this cold season.  
  
As if Matt could read minds, he casually turns to Dom. “Guess it’s the race.”  
  
Dom shrugs his shoulders and is prepared to sit down and watch the telly, but Matt has different plans. The vampire grips the matte black gown and runs it through his fingers. The material is so different, but he can’t expect anything ordinary from Dom.  
  
As much as the blond tries to be calm, the thought of Matt getting rid of his cloak scares him. He doesn’t let it show. “What the hell are you doing?”  
  
“Trying to find out what’s underneath your clothes,” Matt says as if it were no big deal. What does this imp think he is?!  
  
Dom jerks the cloth from the creature’s hands, sits down and with a click of his fingers the telly is on. Some stupid soap opera is playing, but it’s a good distraction. He loved the old ones because it reminded him of how busy his life was at that time. “I’ve got my secrets, you’ve got yours. How about you do some vampire hunting and leave me, the poor old soul, alone?”  
  
“I hope you do realise that I’m not gonna give up on this.” The blue-haired man uses his wings to go upstairs and explore the rest of the building. Then he opens one of the windows and jumps outside, leaving Dom completely alone in the house. He lands perfectly and uses his wings to protect his skin from the sunrays.  
  
Dom thinks about Matt’s words for a second, but immediately waves his hand. _As if_ , he ponders.  
  
•~  
  
Chris doesn’t really like when he’s being made fun of. He’s a creature of royal standards in his realm and should be therefore treated like that. Yet there he is, almost the punching bag of this small group of idiots.  
  
Especially that blood-sucking wanker who keeps getting on his nerves.  
  
Is it because of he gets ticked off easily, or just because he’s from a different world? He always thought that the stories about vampires and werewolves despising each other were myths, but he’s starting to believe that there must be something to it. Meeting Matt, his picture about vampires changed completely; from posh, sensible people with nose a bit up, to annoying spawns of magic.  
  
He walks aimlessly through the street, just thinking and not paying attention to his surroundings when he gets to the end of the pavement and in front of his lays a rocky path leading some forest, maybe. That will perhaps help him relax and focus on the most important task; completing his mission.  
  
Chris enjoys walks, but mostly walks alone. At home he has quite a few members of his flock it’s sometimes needed to just turn off and go somewhere quiet.  
  
Now that he thinks of it, he’s happy to be here because he has to deal with just four creatures who are _adults_ , whereas at home he’d be surrounded by loud children, insufferable women and elders who were just there, existing and doing nothing productive.  
  
He arrives at the end of the road and the forest begins. He’s grateful for his orientation skills and his memory, so he doesn’t have to worry about not finding the way back. Putting his hands to the pockets of his jeans, he looks around. The trees aren’t in a quite good condition, but he can overlook it. What matters is that he can have a breather, take in the feeling of this place, of the whole ‘I’m-somewhere-I-don’t-know-please-help-me’ atmosphere, and he starts to properly explore what’s around him.  
  
All the beautiful colours were doing his head in. Chris feels like when he’s in his world, he can’t see the colours as brightly as here. Maybe that’s why his species is so... boring compared to others.  
  
_No, they’re not boring. They’re royal._  
  
When the wind starts blowing, he smiles because it’s so diverse from what he’s used to. It smells so different.  
  
And then he inhales a scent of another creature. It’s not a forest animal for sure.  
  
Cautiously and as quietly as he can, he moves in the direction of the scent, hiding behind every tree that’s in his way. And then he sees it.  
  
It’s a human being.  
  
He couldn’t be luckier.  
  
Yeah, he watches a husky circle around the person, but he’s pretty sure he can fight it if it came to it. He hopes the task will be fast and painless.  
  
He hides behind a tree nearby and waits for when the human crosses him. The only thing that he can’t hide is his own scent.  
  
As the two near Chris’ hiding place, the husky stops running around and starts barking. The person looks around, alarmed. “Is there anybody out there?”  
  
Chris curses in his mind. He tries to think a way out of this, and then it hits him.  
  
Slowly, he eases on the ground, takes a stick and throws it to a tree opposite of him. His aim isn’t the best, but the man is looking in a different direction, so he doesn’t see the stick when it flies through the air.  
  
But him and the dog notice the sound when it lands and run after the stick.  
  
Chris doesn’t have time to laugh at the stupidity of running after unidentified sounds, and right when the person runs past him, he acts.  
  
His not so long, but twice as sharp claws drape over the man’s right shoulder. It’s the arm that holds the dog’s leash, so he releases it and screams in pain.  
  
But Chris sees that the cut isn’t deep enough to do the desired effect; it only ripped the man’s jacket, shirt and slid a little bit to the skin. He has to go deeper, as much as he doesn’t like the idea.  
  
The creature drags him quickly further from the husky and with his other hand rips the hole more to make room for his canines.  
  
The dog starts barking viciously, but Chris pays no mind to that. As long as it doesn’t attack him, it can be left alone. The dog’s not that far from his own species after all.  
  
The man wakes up from the shock and tries to fight the werewolf off – he trashes his arms, he kicks around himself, but it does nothing; Chris is too strong.  
  
Chris takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and focuses on his target. As if time slowed down, Chris moves forward and bites into the strong, but not strong enough to protect shoulder.  
  
Blood starts oozing from the wound, dirtying Chris’ teeth, mouth and parts of his beard. He doesn’t like revelting to biting since it makes much more mess than clawing, but it was necessary at that moment.  
  
The man collapses to the ground after Chris turns his head away, not supporting the body anymore.  
  
As per usual, it’s awfully quiet again. The dog doesn’t have the courage to even make a sound and Chris just keeps looking at the mess he did. But it doesn’t make him feel anything.  
  
He spits out some blood and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of the grey T-shirt he has on. He looks up.  
  
_One to zero. Your turn, idiots,_ Chris smirks proudly, thinking about the four creatures, and glances at the body with bloodied neck, before it evaporates into the wind. He growls at the now lonely dog before him which barks softly and runs as fast as it can into the darkness of the forest.  
  
He didn’t even expect to succeed his first week here, and yet, there he is with one recruit out of six.  
  
Light-headed, he sniffs around, and it takes him about a minute to catch a whiff of his way back.  



End file.
